So, about the weekend

Deep background:
Over a decade ago (holy crap, am I that old?), my sister was engaged in an ill-fated romance while we were both living at my mother and stepfather’s house in Kerrville. Sis would share her concerns and heartbreaks at the dinner table, and one night I lapsed into a Marlon Brando impersonation and said that I’d straighten her boyfriend out by serving him a dish of pasta finalé. Thus was born the persona of The Godbrother.

Less deep background:
A few years ago, the book The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood became a bestseller. It undoubtedly struck a chord with a great many ladies, because a group of professional women in South Texas banded together and started engaging in Ya-Ya weekends. On these weekends, they would all get together at one of their houses, drink cocktails, put on evening gowns and tiaras, and then go shopping for shoes. Or bathing suits. Then they’d drive down to the coast, take residence in a couple of condos with no men around except the cabana boy, make a lot of daquiris and generally make spectacles of themselves for about two days.

I really hope they all get together and run for office. Texas could use it.

Anyway, the husband of one of the Ya-Yas is a retired Colonel from the Air Force named Don Krager Brown. Mr. Brown is a big fan of mafia movies like The Godfather and Goodfellas. He’s also a huge Jimmy Buffet fan. Last weekend was his 50th birthday. On his birthday, his wife brought hime down to their beach house on Mustang Island to celebrate a nice, quiet birthday.

Yeah, right.

The Ya-Yas had it planned from the get-go. Saturday night would be the mafia party: the women wore black flapper dresses with cigarette holders and headbands, and the men all wore black shorts, black shirts and sunglasses. I was brought in as the mafia ringer. The plan was that the party would start, then I would come to the door, enter, and deliver my Godbrother routine.

Some of you are undoubtedly already aware of Kropserkel. They make assorted movie replicas, including a wonderful severed horse head pillow. I wanted to get one of these for Don Brown on his birthday, but alas, I found out about them too late. But last Friday, as I was walking down the street thinking about what to do to make an impression on the good Don, I passed by the window of a Hallmark store. Inside was a pretty green plush parrot.

Severed horse head. Jimmy Buffet fan. Severed Parrot Head!!!

I bought the parrot.

The next day, my folks picked me up and we drove down to the coast. On the way, we stopped at a roadside travel stop and ordered some hamburgers for lunch. While they were grilling, I bought a small sewing kit, popped out my pocket knife and vorpalized the parrot. (Sorry, Cari.) I then cut a piece of red velvet from the bottom of its tail and used that to sew up the base of the neck. While I was doing this in the middle of the restaurant, I turned to my mom and said, “this feels vaguely illegal.” We kept the body and put it in the trunk with the bourbon.

That night, we all got dressed. I took my violin out of its case and set it on the bed of my room in the condo. I put my digital camera in along with the parrot’s head. We all got in the car and drove to the surprise party. My folks went in to meet up with everyone else. I sat in the car and waited for 30 minutes, knitting.

When the time was right, I got out, grabbed the violin case, walked up to the door and rang the bell. The party was conveniently assembled near the front. “Which one of you is Don Brown?” I asked.

He stepped forward. I was so nervous at this point that I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I laid on the Brando accent thick and told him that he’d dishonored the Family by letting these . . . Ya-Yas take care of the party planning for him. Then I admonished him to consult the Family before his next birthday, lest he wake up on his 51st and find “this on your pillow.” With that, I opened the violin case and produced the parrot’s head.

It was a great success. We all danced, drank, ate until we were about to burst, and walked on the beach throughout the weekend. I met an astronomer, a professional photographer, and an engineer for Boeing, all of whom were fascinating to talk to. I also had several Ya-Yas come up to me and declare that I was mighty cute. What more can you ask for?

Before we left, my mom snuck into Don Brown’s bedroom and left the body of the parrot in his bed. If you ever wonder where I get it from, look at mom.

No Responses to “So, about the weekend”

  1. Kaetchen Says:

    Hey, Godbrother, I’ve got this problem with my parents. They don’t show me any respect, see?

  2. David Says:

    Believe me, he inspired more joy in his current, sadly mutilated state than you can possibly imagine.

  3. Cari Says:

    Poor parrot… All he wanted was for some kid to buy him from that store and love him up till his dye was all faded…